


Way Down We Go

by theonlylifeonmarsisme



Category: Macbeth - Shakespeare
Genre: M/M, police department au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-14
Updated: 2020-01-14
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:48:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22258246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theonlylifeonmarsisme/pseuds/theonlylifeonmarsisme
Summary: Oh fatherTell meDo we getWhat weDeserve?
Relationships: Banquo (Macbeth)/Macbeth
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	Way Down We Go

Oh father  
Tell me  
Do we get what we deserve?

It’s fascinating really.  
Watching the steady drip of crimson onto the stained yellow tiles of the department changing rooms.  
The strip lights flicker, buzzing loudly.  
The room is a fluorescent blue. The colour imprints itself behind his eyes.  
His mind won’t forget this deed.  
What’s he done.  
It’s replayed on repeat, on a cracked screen that only his sickened eyes can see.  
If his mind was a prison then all he wants is for someone to hear his cries and let him out.  
He sighs heavily. In doing so, blood comes into his mouth.  
He’ll be dead soon, hopefully. The bullet’s done it’s damage.  
Macduff watches him anxiously from the corner of the room, eager to keep his distance. The emergency services were called ten minutes ago. Of course, they won’t be here for another thirty, probably.  
Problems with killing your entire department; means the next police response unit is in the next city.  
Another sigh.  
Not from him this time.  
He snaps his head towards the sound.  
A detective sergeant. Bullet to the stomach. Why isn’t she dead yet?  
Wordlessly, he takes his gun and lazily points it towards her.  
Bang.

“WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU DO THAT-“  
He’s not listening. The buzzing of the lights is hurting his brain. He closes his eyes. 

“Beth? Beth, love, can you hear me?”

He shakes his head. No. No, Banquo, I can’t. It hurts too much.

“Come with me love. It doesn’t hurt here. None of it does.”

He shakes his head again. Tempting. But he doesn’t belong where Banquo is. He knows he has an appointment with the devil.  
It hurts so much. He presses his hand against his neck with a hiss of pain and tries to staunch the flow. 

“Come on, Beth. There’s no use waiting here.”

It’s true. Shouts can be heard from outside. They found her body then. Smart girl threw herself off the building before she gave in. 

Macbeth opens his eyes slowly. Heavy boot steps coming up the stairs. 

Macduff in the corner, finger on trigger.  
Pointing between his eyes.  
A painted finger on his tongue, the taste of lacquer.  
A serpents tongue.  
Daffodils. Flowers. Why? Didn’t he know someone who likes flowers? Yellow. Gold. Blue.

The clock strikes 13. Clocks don’t strike 13. But he counted.  
A faint smile crosses his lips.  
He pulls the trigger.

We get what we deserve.

And way down we go.


End file.
